simonshack wrote:Hope you all had a good time over the weekend - and that you'll understand why I've been MIA from the forum for the last few days...

SEPT CLUES PARTY at Simon's house - September 11 2011

As promised, here are a few pics from the party... not a comprehensive gallery by any means - just enough to give you a feel of it. As it is, I only managed to snap some photos before and after the party...was too busy dancing away as the bulk of the guests arrived...

I just wanna add that i tried to write my personal account of the party and surrounding events of the 10th anniversary over at Simon's, but the whole thing keeps coming out so long and mushy nobody will ever read it. Maybe I'll put it on a free blog somewhere rather than burden the forum with it

nonhocapito wrote:I just wanna add that i tried to write my personal account of the party and surrounding events of the 10th anniversary over at Simon's, but the whole thing keeps coming out so long and mushy nobody will ever read it. Maybe I'll put it on a free blog somewhere rather than burden the forum with it

Hey Nonho - this is the chatbox! All sorts of 'gossips and trivia' allowed ...

[PLEASE NOTE: subsequently to my efforts to tidy up a few entangled posts that deserved their own separated topics, I removed from here a couple of paragraphs relative to a polemic (yet another ) between me and fred. I don't think it will be a great loss for the forum to do without them, but just in case maybe I'll paste the removed excerpt back in the chatbox. Is all. Sorry for all the shuffling around.]

So, here are a few excerpts from my failing efforts to sum up my time over at Simon's. If you have the strength to read trough my lengthy tale, I'll welcome your questions, because I am sure I can satisfy your curiosity about many things I didn't think of in my account. But let's start with my feelings before our meeting:

(...) The situation was funny enough because I did not know anyone. Not even Simon, really, with whom I had only talked over the phone a few times since the summer of 2010.For all I knew, I could have been about to step into a trap, even exposing myself to some risk! Will it be a spooky situation? Will there be agents, hidden cameras, weird characters, spiked drinks, torture chambers? What really is this famous villa on the hills of Frascati? etc etc.

Although in the safety of receiving me in his own territory and among friends, I could also imagine that Simon probably had the same reserves about me, wondering what kind of person I was going to be, how I was going to act, speak, look. It is unsettling to think you are going to be scrutinized and analyzed in so many ways. Although, subconsciously, we probably do it all the time, with everyone we meet.

I had six hours of car trip from Milan to Rome to think about all this and still convince myself I was doing the right thing and settle my fears and worries. Yet I think that these fears, for ridiculous they will sound to you and now sound to me, are worth being mentioned, because they represent the transition from the Internet world to the physical world, a crucial, fundamental transition that indeed must be lived when possible. On the other side of the fears is certainly something concrete and understandable, that has many advantages against its digital projection. I can’t express how lucky I feel that, entirely by accident, Simon and I both live in the same country and, albeit not living close to each other, with not too much effort we are able to step into each others’ real worlds.

The encounter of the 3rd kind between me and Simon happened at night, across a non-illuminated round-about, in the middle of the sparse traffic coming from Frascati. He hollered from his FIAT panda nonhocapito, is that you? I replied affirmatively from my FIAT punto... I followed his car (inside which was sitting forum member Alef as well) down to the villa, where the three of us properly met, outside the gates and still pretty in the dark. It will sound cheesy or affected to you, but there was a spontaneous hug between me and Simon right there that maybe summarized all the relevance we were giving to the moment (yeah i know, men are pathetic).

(...) Music was on, people were drinking, dancing and talking. It didn’t take long to understand how far-fetched and aleatory were my fears, and how instead I was in a “very normal” situation I had encountered many times before in my life: an italian party of nice-going friends having a good time all through the night, with music, wine, food and chats. (Plus a couple of cardboard twin towers and half a plane stuck into a wall. Fine, that could have been weird for some: but it was not weird for yours truly, he-he.)

(...) it's not flattery to say that Simon really appeared to me surrounded by beautiful people and friends. I think in part, obviously, it is in Simon’s character; in part it was my particular mood, as I had finally set for a trip after a long time of staying put, and everything appeared new to me; in part it is Italy itself that has all this to give to you, if you can see it and value it: Italy that still, despite everything, is a generous, sorry, sad, wonderful place on this darn earth.

And Simon’s house itself, despite its age, or maybe because of it, has a very welcoming air about it that adds to this feeling of warmth and ease. It is an open house, with many doors, many windows, many traces of the lives, of family and friends, that lived days or years or decades through it. One immediately wants to “stay”, and experience it. It is literally hard to leave the place. I can understand better now how Simon is so hardly perturbable by all the negativity and paranoia that can sometimes surround our research. He seem to have a nondescript, intangible way to create around himself a positive, generous, spontaneous atmosphere... Even the ones among his friends who, I imagine, can be bothered or molested by his ideas on 9/11 and fakery, and who, like the most of humanity, are probably not interested to approach them at this particular stage of their lives, still hang around without making too much fuss about it. This was very surprising, and encouraging to me. (...)

Thanks for sharing your thoughts nonhocapito. I had a similar sense of wonder upon visiting Simon and meeting him for the first time in person. It helps that I am also enchanted with Italy a bit. All the food is so good! Simon is a nice enough guy, very generous and cool. Laid back. I aim to be as relaxed as Simon one day. I am still maybe too young and excitable.

As for Fred "hiding" - well, I can't criticize him for this but I understand why you would have questions about it. Thusfar, Fred seems nice and only provocative when criticized, if unduly or not.

I am looking at the WellAware1 site and I am not really convinced at all, but I will admit that it at least grabs one's attention at times.

In fact, I was hoping that my efforts to meet people face to face would lead to 'love letters' such as yours. I am using the word 'love' because I really - very seriously - fear that many people have forgotten the beauty and importance of that word.

I am now content that inviting 9/11 researchers to my house in Rome has been - in spite of a few minor disappointments (Dduck from Sweden, Surcouf from France, Steven Warran from New York) - has turned out to be a good thing after all. Meeting you in person was an incredibly soothing experience. You were just what I had imagined you to be.

This is my favorite part of your post above, nonho:

I had six hours of car trip from Milan to Rome to think about all this and still convince myself I was doing the right thing and settle my fears and worries. Yet I think that these fears, for ridiculous they will sound to you and now sound to me, are worth being mentioned, because they represent the transition from the Internet world to the physical world, a crucial, fundamental transition that indeed must be lived when possible.

Indeed. We have to keep doing this. Internet is a virtual meeting place which becomes real only when we meet each other face to face. Wow...did I write some genius sentence there!...

Aaw Nonho, that was so wonderfully thoughtful and soulful You just reminded me how much I look forward to visiting Italy (hopefully not so far off), and Simon too of course Oh, and I have to say there's nothing "pathetic" about good men hugging each other!

(...) during the party back at Simon me and him talked in bits about us and the forum, but being it a party, often, during the early part of it, I was left alone to roam around the garden and all the people that I didn't know. Of course every now and then I remembered to look for "signs", for suspicious characters, for people observing me. Sure there were a couple of girls taking pictures, and sure, I ended up in a couple of those pictures unwillingly. Later or the next day I joked with Simon about it ("hey, I noticed the two cute Mossad agents taking pictures of us yesterday!") (to be clear: we laughed about it). But the point is, actually, that I don't really care if I am listened to or photographed (or rather, there is very little I can do about it, so I choose not to worry). I actually take it for granted that this must have happened in a situation or the other. If not at Simon's then back where I live. Thing is, they can "play spy" as much as they want, they will not get me to "play spy" with them. I remember when being a high school student and going to marches in the streets of Milan. There was always, always the moment when facing the police lines you would spot their photographers, dressed up as protesters, taking pictures of you and your friends. I am sure I already was, with name and surname, in some of their boring, sad useless little files back then.

(...) back at the party of the 10th, more interesting things were happening, including a beautiful long moment sitting around a table until past dawn singing and making music. Because other strange, unpredicted events occurred to me personally in the following days after I left Simon’s (and headed south), including car problems, wildfires and whatnot, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the whole week. It will remain for me as "one of those things" that punctuate the ridiculously compressed memories of our life. For some reason, the week will be probably forever defined in my head by that night around the table at Simon's, with him and his wonderfully talented musical girlfriend, with Alef and his napoletan voice, and with all the other beautiful people. I suck at it, but I love making music, I love those rare (rare for me) moments when people who know or barely know each other are united by everything and nothing, a film of feelings that seems now the thinnest thing, now the thickest. I slept an hour or so after dawn that morning, on a deckchair in the garden. I needed the music to be over around me and collect my thoughts, so I went for a walk around outside the villa. It was the 11th of September. The world looked very quiet, very normal. (...)